Chapter 2 Hana
Hana
The wine warmed my chest as I leaned against the kitchen island, the glass cool in my fingers. Snow drifted outside, swirling under the cabin lights.
Jack was in the living room, tossing another log on the fire. His voice drifted over to me right after I heard my phone ping with a text.
“Jackie just texted you. They should be here in about ten minutes,” he said, that smooth English accent making even a weather update sound charming.
I smiled, already feeling the buzz of anticipation building inside me.
“You look quite happy, sweetheart,” he said when he came up behind me, his arms wrapping around my body.
“I am excited,” I admitted, trying to hide my grin, though I wasn’t sure why.
Jack nuzzled my neck, slow and teasing. He knew exactly how to ignite the heat between my legs.
“You’ve got that schoolgirl crush energy,” he whispered. “Especially when it comes to her.”
I scoffed, laughing it off. “Shut up. She’s my best friend. I’ve just missed her.”
He chuckled. “Mmhm. You have always had some sort of thing with her.”
I rolled my eyes. “I have not. I just…of course she’s beautiful. But we’ve been through a lot together. We’ll always have that strong connection.”
Jack kissed the side of my neck, his voice dropping. “Honestly, I wouldn’t mind watching.”
I caught the little edge in his tone—the teasing, but also something more. Jack loved to watch, to share. It had been part of what turned him on, something we discovered the night he was practically forced to share me, back when Michael…
I stopped myself. I didn’t want to think about him.
Jack and I had our wild nights, but always with other guys. He had always been curious, open about exploring that side of himself, and I liked being part of it—watching, but especially joining in.
But it never happened with a woman.
He never brought it up. Neither had I. The idea occurred to me, but I think both of us just assumed I wasn’t interested in women.
Jack had been on tour all fall. His band was doing great—not stadiums, but sold-out tours, covers of magazines, talk shows, podcasts and interviews with big names.
Tour life was usually the five of us: Jack, Jenny, Emily, Adam, and me.
Jenny was our amazing four year-old who was too smart for her own good.
Emily was my cousin and best friend, and she was with Adam—Jack’s bandmate and best friend.
Between Jenny’s wild energy and Emily’s even wilder mouth, things stayed loud, messy, chaotic, and full of love.
Emily’s energy was exactly what Jenny needed to keep her entertained while we disappeared into the snow for a few days.
I texted Emily that morning, reminding her to not let Jenny sneak snacks before dinner.
She texted me hours later with Jenny’s face covered in chocolate with a plate full of untouched dinner in front of her.
Jack took my hand as he smiled, his dimples deepening. Even after years together, he still made my heart flutter.
“Jenny’s gonna have some good stories when we get back,” he had said.
I smiled with a shake of my head. “Yeah, all riddled with words like fuck and shit and goddamnit.”
He laughed softly. “You think she doesn’t already know those words? She goes on tour with a fucking rock band—”
I was pulled back to the present when suddenly, headlights swept over the snow outside.
“They’re here!” I said, unable to hide the excitement in my voice.
I made my way to the front door, my heart thudding quickly. Through the window, I could see the two of them emerging from the SUV—Jackie laughing at something Elliott said, snow catching in her hair, her cheeks already pink from the cold.
I opened the door, and the cold air immediately hit me. But my attention was all on them.
Jackie had always had this edge to her. Dirty blonde hair pulled up into a loose bun, strands falling around her face, and big hazel eyes that never missed much.
She had full lips curved in an easy, don’t-fuck-with-me smile.
When we first met, she had blue streaks at the ends of her hair and wore black combat boots with every outfit.
She still had that vibe now—fewer sharp edges maybe, but still entirely herself.
And Elliott—well, he was a fucking silver fox.
Eighteen years older than Jackie, with broad shoulders, a dimpled chin, and that salt-and-pepper hair that made him even more insanely attractive.
He didn’t say much at first, but when he did, it was always quick and dead-on. Therapist’s instinct, probably.
Jackie once called him her emotional support Thor; with his frame, I couldn’t even argue. Built like a superhero, broad enough to make a doorway look small. Yet soft-spoken and kind, he was the opposite of what you’d expect.
Together, they made kind of an intimidating pair. But really, they were both the sweetest people in the entire world.
Jackie’s eyes locked with mine and immediately lit up, her whole face transforming with that familiar, radiant smile.
“Hana,” she breathed, already stepping toward me like she couldn’t get close fast enough.
I was smiling so hard it hurt as I rushed out onto the snowy porch. The cold bit at my cheeks, but I didn’t care—she was already wrapping me in a tight hug.
“God, it’s been too long,” she said into my ear. “I was starting to think you were just a hallucination.”
I laughed, hugging her even tighter. “I’m real. And warm. And you’re slightly frozen,” I teased.
She pulled back just enough to look at me, her hands still on my arms. “Still the most unfairly beautiful person in the world.”
I rolled my eyes. “Flatter me again and I’ll let you stay in the good room,” I said, my heart fluttering at how natural this felt, like no time had passed at all.
We both laughed, her hand brushing mine as we stepped into the house together. The snow melted in our hair, the warmth of the cabin suddenly nothing compared to the warmth blooming in my chest.
Elliott followed close behind, carrying both of their bags like it was nothing. “This place is gorgeous,” he said, scanning the space as he stepped inside.
“Isn’t it?” I agreed, closing the door behind them. “It makes you wonder who actually owns it. Like, are they royalty? Tech billionaires? Mafia? It has a sauna and a wine fridge bigger than my first apartment.”
Jack was already in the kitchen when we walked in, leaning casually against the counter with a glass of whiskey in hand. “You made good time,” he said, then nodded at Elliott. “Hey, mate.”
Elliott stepped forward and clasped his hand. “Good to see you.”
It was brief, but they made solid eye contact, and there was a quiet respect between them.
They didn’t talk about what had happened back then.
None of us really did. But I knew Jack trusted Elliott.
Probably more than most people. And I knew part of that came from the fact that when it had mattered most—when everything with Michael came to a head—Elliott hadn’t hesitated. He helped us plan. He made it go away.
He looked at Jackie, offering a glass. “Drink?”
She paused for a beat, then she shook her head with a soft smile. “I’m good.” She looked up at Elliott. “But I don’t mind if you do, babe.”
He glanced at her, and there was another pause. He gave her a small nod before turning back to Jack. “I’ll take a whiskey, if you’ve got it.”
Jack was already moving. “Always.”
I knew Jackie had an ongoing, difficult relationship with alcohol. I hoped we weren’t being a bad influence, drinking around her and all.
I clasped Jackie’s arm with mine. “Want the tour?”
Her face lit up. “Obviously.”